Cold Composure

KELLAN'S POV

Griffin leaned toward me once Jagger moved to the other side. “You handled that disgustingly well,” he whispered.

“I’m not nineteen anymore,” I said quietly.

“No, you’re worse. You’re calm.” I smirked faintly.

Coach Donovan’s whistle echoed from the corridor. “On the ice in five!” We filed out. The second my blades hit the ice, everything else faded.

The rink lights reflected off the